


Not your ordinary hook-up

by QueenOfSkaro



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clintasha Wedding, Drunk Hook-Up, M/M, Memory Loss, unsure!Steve, worst at tags ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5026390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfSkaro/pseuds/QueenOfSkaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the "We hook up at our friends wedding and make out on half the pictures. No matter what we intended, it isn't going to be forgotten." prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not your ordinary hook-up

"You look like you could use another ten hours of sleep.", a voice droned through his head and he couldn't supress a groan at the pain that came with that particular voice. He hated his sister in the morning. Alright, maybe he adored her at all times, but just right now he was hungover enough to at least consider a dislike.   
"What do you want?", Bucky whined instead, letting himself fall onto a kitchen chair before burying his face in his hands, trying to get rid of the giant pounding behind his eyes with willpower alone.   
"Oh, come on. I'm just being nice, you git. Try being grateful for once.", she scoffed. Standing up she came around the table and dumped a little bag in front of him. Quizzically he blinked up at her to see her rolling her eyes.  
"You told me last night that you're going to be fucked, because you don't have painkillers at home. Repeatedly. And I mean it, I wanted to shove a napkin down your throat just to make you shut up, but then Steve took that job from me, thank god. Even though I'd prefered to be spared that much PDA, at least your mouth was occupied with something other than whining."  
He was still in too much pain to really think about anything at all, so he just grunted something akin to thanks and swallowed three pills dry, before laying his head onto his crossed arms and closing his eyes. Becca chuckled a little, patted his head and started on breakfast.

It was almost half an hour later that he woke from his after-wakeup-nap, just in time for a plate to take the place of his head on the table, filled with eggs and bacon and so much grease Buckys stomach rumbled. Without saying a word he dug in, emptying the plate in three minutes flat. A loud burp sounded in the kitchen and his sister knew him too long to even purse her lips.  
"Thanks, Beccs. Really, you're the best.", he grinned, kicking her foot lightly with his and leaning back on his chair.

"Oh, I know that. And you kind of deserved it, you were pretty well behaved yesterday, all things considered, so this is your treat. You did great on the not-hitting-the-groom-front, even though Stevie had to hold you back a time or ten. It was hilarious, really, we got it on tape. He's, like, the size of a pre-schooler, you could have sneezed him off of you, if you wanted to. But you were pretty clear in what ways you wanted him all over you, so not happening that. Helped a lot. Tash considered to pay for your wedding as a thank you."

Okay, and that was just too much speech without any context. He could almost feel the headache coming back with the try to decipher even a word of what's been said. So he decided to try with something hopefully simple.  
"Stevie?"  
"Yes, Steve. You know, the love of your life. You declared that yesterday quite spectacularly. Got on the stage and sang and everything."  
"I did not."  
"Oh, believe me, you did. And if you don't you're always free to take a look at all the footage we got on you two."

Staying silent he tried to remember anything from the day before. He knew it was Natashas wedding - with that dumbass Clint, he wasn't sure how that one got her to agree to that, but at least he took her name, not the other way around, so everyone could know who owned whom. Bucky was pretty sure he was even early enough at the church to speak with Tash and for her to make it clear that there would be repercussion if he wasn't on his best behaviour. And he wasn't stupid enough to risk that.   
The church was full to bursting, Natasha was a people person, even if she didn't like most of them and Clint was, apparently, quite well liked where he wasn't bedding someones best friend, not that Bucky would know. The ceremony was okay, he guessed. And then started the real celebration and he made a promise not to hit Clint - however Tash got that out of him - so he started to drink the second he took his seat. And after that it was mostly drinks and mist and now that he thought about it, there was this song stuck in his head that sounded suspiciously like that damn sugar-song and it was starting to annoy him the second he noticed. 

"You don't remember him, do you?", Becca asked and her voice sounded sober now, nothing joking or teasing in it and Buck couldn't understand why that would warrant such a tone of voice. It wasn't the first guy he made out with and forgot again. Not even close. Shrugging his shoulders he looked at her questioningly, but she schooled her features into an easy if fake smile and shrugged too.  
"Well, no matter then. Great party. You should shower, you reek something awful."

There was so much wrong about her right now he couldn't even start to name it, but he obliged her and went into the small bathroom, kissing her cheek when he passed her. He threw his clothes into the hamper and sighed when the hot water hit his back.   
What was it he forgot? It was never that important, just a make-out session, a quickie in a restroom or empty promises in a drunk night, but this felt like a whole world apart from that. But no matter how hard he tried to think of the last night he got no image of a guy named Steve. And he couldn't comprehend the loss he felt at that.

* * *

Once out of the shower he dressed himself in old sweatpants and a worn shirt and he would have settled for boxers and a beer, just to compliment that lost feeling in his chest if not for his sister. Becca sat in his living room, playing with his laptop, but she looked up as soon as he entered the room, closed it and stood up.   
"I'm off then. You look as good as you get again, so my job is done. I'll do something productive with my time now.", she said, kissed his cheek and went for the door without waiting for his reply. "But, you know - I would suggest taking a look at your laptop. I put everything I have from last night on it, but you can always ask Bruce and Tony for more. Phil too, he was constantly around with his camera. So, just - try to remember okay?"

Alone now he sighed heavily and shoved both hands through his hair. Bucky didn't like it how his sister talked. Like it was something special last night and every second he thought about it the loss and loneliness in his chest expanded a little. It felt like it took the air out of his lungs and it was hard to breathe and just fuck - who he hell was Steve? His phone went off in his bedroom and he was grateful for the distraction. That feeling evaporated soon enough.

_You want to meet up later? **Sugar**_

Steve. This was Steve and Bucky knew that without a doubt, because he could remember saving a number with that song playing in the background and thinking himself hilarious and a cute little blond rolling his eyes. That was all, but it was more than he had a minute ago and his laptop was open on his lap before he could think clearly, already running and loading a few dozen pictures his sister put on it not long ago, labeled as **IMPORTANT** and Bucky wouldn't argue with that. He clicked the first.  
Boring. Tash and her pet idiot.   
The next.   
The same, just with Beccs and Tony.   
Another.   
Himself in the picture, looking pained but smiling, hugging the bride to his chest.  
Not what he wanted. He clicked through the photos in front of the church to the party and then some more. 

There.  
He knew that hair. Granted, it was the only thing you could see from Steve in the picture, but it was something at least. Bucky didn't think about the fact that he only needed a few strands of blond hair to recognize this stranger, he just went to the next picture.   
His breath stopped for a second and then Bucky clicked with lightning speed through the rest of footage his sister left him. Bright smile, stunning blue eyes, fragile body that felt perfect against his own and yes, he kinda remebered the feeling of it. At least he remembered the feeling of completeness and warmth and - it was almost unbearable not knowing more. He wrote a quick email to his friends Tony and Bruce and an adress he thought was that Phil guy his sister mentioned and it so happened she saved under the elusive name of _PICTURES HERE_. While waiting he looked at the others again. Fuck, that guy was pretty. Not just hot, he was fucking beautiful. And Bucky was lost without fully remembering what happened last night. He could see it in front of him just fine.

Steve and him on the dancefloor, grinding against each other.  
Steve and him at the bar, sitting next to each other obviously whispering in private.  
Steve and him in a random hallway, legs around hips and hands in hair.  
Steve and him devouring the wedding cake.   
Steve and him on a drunk picture of the wedding society, hanging onto each other like nothing else mattered while Natasha, Clint, Becca, Bruce and Tony were laughing at god knew what - and it was them, Bucky just knew. 

Fuck. That was - that looked serious. Like, we can't keep our hands to ourselves serious. Like I'm only that happy because you're here serious. Like this could be our wedding and - FUCK what the fuck was that? 

_Sure. When and where?_ he send Steve, trying not to think about what he send.

* * *

This wouldn't do. Bucky groused internally about his late bout of puberty, cursing his sweaty hands, constant look to the clock and butterflies in his stomach he always thought about as myths girls invented to justify the need to eat sweets.   
Fuck this, he was twenty-six years old, a fucking grown-up, living a fucking adult life with a job and bills and shit. He even knows how to cook a broad list of five meals that could easily be considered eatable. He rocks this shit.   
And now some tiny little blond comes around, one he doesn't even fully remember - even though he remembers more than enough to sit in this booth at the restaurant Steve send him the adress of - and just - crashs it. This wouldn't do. He won't have a person in his life that reduces him to bubbling, sweating fourteen year old. He refuses.

Bucky stood up, was all set on leaving and trying to forget whatever fragments he had of the last night, but he suddenly couldn't move anymore. And it was every single silly romance novel he never - never never - read combined into one deers-in-headlights-look when he took in who must be Steve, teeny tiny Steve who was small enough to lie his chin on comfortably. Small enough he wouldn't take up much space in Buckys single bed. Small enough to throw over his shoulder and do what he wanted. Pretty enough Bucky felt himself being ruined for another male in slow motion, like a tidal wave through his body.

"Hey, Buck.", Steve said with a voice that was way too low and husky for someone who looked like Tinkerbell, but it matched him so perfectly Bucky didn't know what to say. He still stood there looking like the biggest idiot, which didn't get any better as Steve started to nervously bite his lip. "Well, uhm.", Steve stuttered and it was obvious how uncomfortable he got when Bucky did nothing but stare. He had to do something, quick.   
_Think, Bucky, think. Anything. He'll leave, you'll never see him again, he'll say they were only drunk if you keep acting like a moron so fucking DO something._

Instinct and experience took over, because it sure as fuck wasn't his rational thinking as he scooped down, took Steves head in his hands and kissed him like he was starving.   
And it was so much better than any half discovered memory could ever be. What did it matter that he couldn't remember all of last night when it still felt so real? This was something big, something everyone waits for all their lifes and he found it, held it right in his hands and -  
He was right, this was big and great and right. And Bucky couldn't start that with a lie. He separated from a pretty, dazed-looking Steve.  
"I don't remember you.", he said, being the all-time-idiot he was and could see the blonds face crumble right under his hands and that was the worst thing he ever saw, including all seasons of sex and the city and the twilight movies.

Two hasty steps back put much more space between his little lover and himself than he ever wanted to have for the rest of his life.   
"I mean - I couldn't remember you this morning. Beccs gave me pictures though, from the wedding, of us. I - I still can't remember everything, but enough to know that you are so much more important than any other drunk hook-up I ever had and I - could you please stop looking like that? I try to be honest here, because I want this to work - us to work - for fucking ever and I'm doing the right thing here, stop looking like I just broke your heart, because thats literally the opposite of what I'm trying to do right now."  
There's silence and Bucky could never stand those, except with a hangover, but he was alright on that front now - not on others, not on any other front, but the point stood, he wanted Steve to talk and hear that voice again that gave him shudders up and down his spine and - Stevie sat and Bucky quickly followed. The blond waved to a waiter and ordered a beer. After a second he called him back to order a second one. 

"Look, I'm sorry. I drank too much, it's my fault. I never met anyone worth having this conversation and now that I have I feel like it's my duty to beg for forgiveness or something and if you don't say anything right now I will do so, on my knees, right here."   
"Please don't. I'm embarrassed enough already.", Steve said and Bucky would forever deny the flinch that took over his face for a splitsecond, but at least the other spoke now. Progress. "You're right, you drank so much I should have at least considered the possibility, but it never - well, it doesn't matter now."  
"Steve, come on. At least give me a chance, I'm here aren't I? And just because I don't know what exactly I told you or - or, you know, remember that stage scene my sister told me about, that doesn't mean I'm not in this. I am, absolutely, completely. So don't fucking knock me down at all turns, because I still feel it, ok? I felt it when I got your text and then I looked through the pictures and I fucking recognized the back of your head, that gotta count, right? Come on, Stevie. It's got to count for something."

Okay, maybe he was begging, but he was prepared to go all out for this boy and fuck - fuck fuck - he was so gone for him it was creepy and overwhelming and the best feeling he ever felt and he would never give that up again. If his little blond thought he could just talk what they had down he got another thing coming. So what if he couldn't remember every second? He felt so deeply it was completely ridiculous.  
Steve looked at him wrily, assessing, as if he needed to make sure Bucky meant his words and maybe that was understandable.   
"So what you say is - what? That even though I'm a stranger to you you want to give this a chance? Whatever this is. Because I'm kinda unsure right now. I came here thinking we were on the same page but - uh - we're not and I don't know what to think now. Or do."  
"Of course I want to try this. What do you think I'm doing here? And you're not a stranger - I can't - look, I'm not exactly good with words. I just know that - god, do we really have to keep talking? I remember an awful lot of making out and I wouldn't be against it to just resume it."

There! He saw it, he was certain and no amount of scowling could make the grin unseen now.   
“We need to talk about it, Buck. We need to make sure we're in this together, and talk about the specifics. What exactly are we? Where do we want to go from here? How can we make this evening less awkward? Important questions and they need answers, so no making out until they are cleared.” Okay, that was something Bucky could work with.  
“We're boyfriends. Preferably to a wedding Natasha said she would pay for. Kiss me.”

Dumbstruck was not a good look on most people, but Bucky thought his little love totally rocked it.   
The beer was stale before they noticed it.


End file.
